


Drove Through Ghosts to Get Here

by frankiewenttohollywood



Category: K-pop, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:11:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankiewenttohollywood/pseuds/frankiewenttohollywood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A vagabond on the run and a barista who cares too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drove Through Ghosts to Get Here

**Author's Note:**

> coffee shop AU

Here's the thing about covers of popular songs that everyone has heard at least a hundred times: _everyone_ hates them. Go acoustic, remix it, or make it unrecognizable—it doesn't matter. There's always that sense of _unoriginal_ hanging over it and someone almost always pull the, "this is great, but..." line.

It takes all of Sunny's willpower to not roll her eyes at herself as she finishes her set.

The smattering of applause from the half dead audience does nothing but make her hurry off the stage as quickly as possible.

She loves it, really. The too bright lights, the nauseating feeling that always hits her right before she goes on stage, the off chance that someone out there actually likes what she's got. Other times, she hates it so much it makes her sick. The insincere praise, the overwhelming sense of being smothered by scrutiny, the _necessity_ of it all. It's horrible and wonderful all at once and she wouldn't change a thing about it.

Except for when she has bills to pay and her gigs are only netting her, "Fifty?"

The manager shrugs and doesn't even bother to look the least bit sorry about it. "Look, kid, times are tough. And it's not like the club was packed tonight, so, yeah, fifty."

"Great."

"Sunny," this time he does look a little sorry, "I think there will be more openings next month? You know I would move the bands around if—"

"No, it's cool." Sunny pockets the money and puts on a convincing smile. Lies and the liars who tell them; it shouldn't come this naturally to her but it does, and she lets it. "Just keep me updated or whatever," she says and makes her way towards the door.

She walks out and never looks back.

 

 

 

"We need to talk."

Sunny looks at her roommates and fights the urge to laugh. Conversations that start out this way never end well. "Let me guess, you guys are breaking up with me."

Sooyoung rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "Don't be glib, this is serious. Our lease is up at the end of the month."

"And?" She knows where this is going, she's been expecting it for some time now.

"And, well...," Sooyoung trails off and glances at Hyoyeon, a silent plea in her eyes.

Hyoyeon averts her gaze. "Don't look at me," she mumbles, "this isn't even my idea."

"Right," Sooyoung huffs, "I'm the bad guy in all this."

She really isn't, though. They're probably about to kick her out of the apartment and Sunny completely understands. She's been a terrible roommate when it comes to rent and they probably should have kicked her out months ago. The fact that they didn't makes her cut in.

"You guys, it's fine, I get it. I'll be out by the end of the month."

Neither of them will admit it but they both have nervous tics that give them away when they're uncomfortable. Sooyoung clenches her jaw which makes her elegant features sharper, more distinct. Hyoyeon picks at the edge of her shirt and refuses to make eye contact.

She hates that she's inadvertently put them in this position.

"Believe me, I'd gladly cover your third of the rent indefinitely if I could but—"

"Shut up, you shouldn't have to have done that in the first place." Sunny takes a deep breath. "I suck as a roommate, I know."

Sooyoung is at her side and enveloping her with her lanky limbs before she can even finish her sentence. Hyoyeon wordlessly flanks her other side, a comforting hand at the small of her back.

"You don't suck," Hyoyeon says into her neck.

She lets them hold her if only for a moment.

 

 

 

Her whole life fits into the back of her car.

It would be sad, she thinks, if she ever thought that she needed things to make her life complete.

"You have a place to stay, right?" Sooyoung asks as she loads Sunny's guitar into the back of her car, the case thumping against her boxes of vinyl.

"Hey, careful with that. Yeah, I do. Don't worry about it." She inspects the case despite knowing the small tussle would have done little more than to slightly shake the guitar inside. A quick glance at Sooyoung tells her she's narrowing her eyes at her.

"Okay, that's the last of it," Hyoyeon says and closes the trunk.

The three of them just stand there for a moment looking at each other. Sunny's chest tightens as if this moment, right now, is important.

Hyoyeon breaks the silence. "Why does it feel like we're never going to see each other again?"

The two people who are never afraid of anything are looking at her as if the world is ending.

"We will," she says and smiles like she means it. Sunny pulls them both into a hug because it's all that she can do.

"Don't shut us out," Sooyoung whispers in her ear.

Sunny tightens her hold on her friends one last time before letting them go. She tells herself that she's not running away from this like every other problem in her life. It's different, this time. She shoots them both one last smile and ignores the clenching in her chest.

"See you when I see you."

Sunny gets in her car and drives, and drives, and drives.

 

 

 

She ends up in the middle of a nameless town twenty miles outside of the city. It's quaint and homely—definitely not the kind of place that you would just pass through.

A coffee shop on the corner catches her eye; the sign reads: Open Mic All Day.

Open mic means free and free means not getting paid. Regardless, Sunny makes what she's sure is an illegal turn and haphazardly parks on the side of the street.

Like all the greats, she has to start somewhere.

 

 

 

"Thank you, thank you. I am the L to the double E Lee, tell all your friends."

Normally, she's not one to judge people on their talents, or lack thereof. One person's piano savant is another person's lullaby inducer; it's all subjective. She's not going to fault someone for doing what they love even if it _is_ terrible and horribly tacky.

But still, she has to resist the urge to scoff when Lee makes his way off the makeshift stage with a smirk on his face.

Instead, she gets in line to order coffee and is hit by a too bright smile that has no business being here in this coffee shop in the middle of nowhere.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

The barista is smiling at her like she's just so happy to be there serving _coffee_ as if it's the greatest thing in the entire world and Sunny forgets how to breathe.

"Um," she wills her brain to make her mouth do something more useful.

This girl, with her electric smile and lunar eyes, is tilting her head and lifting her eyebrows in amusement and all Sunny can do is blink at her.

Someone clearing their throat behind her snaps her out of her daze.

"Coffee," she says and averts her eyes. "Black."

The other girl's smile never wavers. "Hardcore," she says and rings her up.

Sunny grabs her coffee wordlessly and proceeds to the table farthest from the register and laments her life.

 

 

 

"So, are you going to sing or what?"

It's the girl from before.

"What?" Sunny notes how the girl eases her way into the chair next to her like she was invited.

"You've been eyeballing that sign-up sheet for the past hour."

"Shouldn't you be working?"

"I'm on my break," she says casually, shooting Sunny a half smile.

Whatever reply Sunny might have had instantly dies in her throat. She's never like this and she's not sure what to make of it. She's not exactly hating it either and doesn't know what to make of _that_ either.

For a while they just sit there in a comfortable silence, listening to the string of amateurs showing off that one acoustic cover they spent hours perfecting.

Sunny doesn't even realize it until she feels a slight tug on her wrist that the other girl is playing with her bracelet. Instinct would have had her yank her hand back but she quirks an eyebrow instead.

"I like your bracelet."

"Thanks," Sunny says dryly.

"You should sign up," she says and squeezes Sunny's wrist. "You look like you'd be good." Another squeeze and she was gone, back behind the register and tricking people into buying expensive coffee with her face.

Sunny never does anything people tell her to do on principle alone. So, she discards her half empty cup of cold coffee and tries her best to not look like she's trying to avoid eye contact with the barista and makes her way out of the shop.

She never does anything people tell her to do, but the longer she stayed in there the likelier it got that she would start breaking her own stupid rules.

 

 

 

She drives around town until she's almost out of gas.

Her limited stash of money was dwindling, she has no plan of action, _and_ she's wired from the coffee. Hindsight's crystal clear, sure, but still, it probably would have been better to plan things out a little more thoroughly.

The never ending adventure that is her life leads her to a parking garage next to an outlet mall.

People park their cars in these garages overnight all the time so it's not likely that she would get towed. Probably.

 

 

 

For a seemingly small town that no one has ever heard of, they sure have a lot of commercial aspects to it. Lucky for her, that meant finding a gym within walking distance of the garage.

She waits until there's a group of people walking in and quickly trails behind them, blending in as if she belonged. Once inside, she makes a beeline for the showers.

Whoever said homelessness sucked clearly wasn't resourceful.

 

 

 

The next day she walks around and looks for work. Everything that's available looks horrible. If she wanted to push papers for a living, she would have stayed home and gone to work for her family.

She doesn't even realize she has the town all mentally mapped out before her feet unwittingly take her back to the coffee shop. The open mic sign is still out. After yesterday's performances, it's a surprise the shop hasn't banned everyone in skinny jeans altogether.

Fingering the last of her money in her pocket, Sunny shrugs and crosses the street and into the shop.

Instead of messy guitarmanship, her ears are hit with poetry recitation this time when she walks in. She makes her way to the counter and to no one's surprise, the girl from yesterday is working.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

Same husky voice, same cheerful smile.

"Strawberry smoothie," Sunny says evenly. She's actively trying to not appear like a mess this time and it probably shows.

"No coffee today?"

Sunny shrugs. "I'm a growing girl, I need my nutrients."

"Growing girls probably shouldn't be getting their smoothies in a coffee shop." The barista hands her her change, fingers lingering a bit too long for it to be appropriate.

Sunny swallows hard, at a loss for words yet again.

"My shift is over soon, stick around?"

Grabbing her drink, Sunny just sort of nods and seeks out the table from yesterday. She does stick around, but only because she was already planning on it.

 

 

 

The people performing today aren't as bad as the ones from yesterday. Sure there's the occasional off-key belting, but, it's different. The couple doing a duet don't even look like they're trying to perform for the audience. They're doing it for _each other_ and everything else is just background noise.

It's gross and beautiful and she _gets_ it.

"Are you going to sign up today or are you going to watch them serenade each other and then leave again?"

The barista has made her way to Sunny's table and she's sitting close enough for their arms to touch. Sunny tries not to flinch at the brush of soft skin.

"Did you know that you ask a lot of questions?"

"It's rude to answer a question with a question," she leans over and whispers into Sunny's ear.

The smell of fruit and coffee invades her senses and Sunny has no idea what to do with herself. She likes to think of herself as a composed person, but this girl has managed to trip her up too many times in just two days.

"You know, I don't even know your name."

"I could say the same thing to you," Sunny says once she's regained the ability to function like a normal person.

The girl smirks at her and points a slender finger at her own chest. A name tag. Oh.

"Tiffany," Sunny says slowly.

Tiffany smiles at her and extends her hand.

"Sunny." She takes Tiffany's hand with her own and ignores how this might be the start of something; and she especially ignores how their hands seem to fit together perfectly.

 

 

 

Two hours.

It takes all of two hours for Sunny to find out that Tiffany really likes animals—but only the cuddly ones that she can hug at night, adores her nieces, and is only working as a barista to make ends meet until she can do what she really wants to.

"And what would that be?"

"I don't know yet," Tiffany says, idly playing with Sunny's empty cup. "I mean, it's not like I have to figure everything out all at once, you know? I'm happy. As far as I'm concerned, I already have life figured out."

Sunny nods absentmindedly. "But don't you want more? Isn't there something that you feel like you have to be doing?"

"Why, what more do _you_ want?" Tiffany's dark eyes bore into her with implications that she knows she's supposed to read into.

Sunny averts her gaze and wipes her hands on her thighs.

Tiffany sighs. "So," she says after a while, "you've impressively managed to say next to nothing about yourself this whole time."

Tiffany laughs which means Sunny must have the caught in the headlights expression written all over her face.

"You're quite the enigma," Tiffany says with a look like she's studying her.

"And you're kind of disgustingly gorgeous." She says it before she can even process it through her brain first.

Tiffany's eyes disappear behind her smile and she goes on to tell her about the time her niece figured out how to let the dog out of its kennel.

 

 

 

They still haven't run out of things to talk about by the time at least three soloists have gone on stage to perform the exact same cover one after another. Or rather, Tiffany hasn't run out of things to talk about and Sunny hasn't grown tired of listening to her.

Sunny pokes at the sandwich Tiffany got for them by abusing her employee privileges and listens to her talk about all the horrid customers she dealt with that week.

"That's stupid," Sunny says around a bite of her sandwich. "You should have punched the jerk."

"I'm not allowed to anymore," Tiffany says without missing a beat. "My first week on the job was a pretty exciting time."

Sunny laughs and chokes on her food. Tiffany rubs her back which is seriously not helping at all.

"So," Tiffany says, hand still running across Sunny's back, "are you new in town? I think I would have remembered you if you ever came in here before."

"Yeah," Sunny barely squeaks out, conscious of Tiffany's warm hand on her.

"Where's your new place?"

"Well," Sunny starts, desperately trying to ignore Tiffany's firm press on her, "if by new place you mean the back of my car, then next to the mall a few blocks from here." Sunny takes a sip of water and looks everywhere but at Tiffany's scandalized face.

"You're living out of your car?" Tiffany's other hand comes up to her chest and she can't tell if it's in mock or she's genuinely surprised.

"I'm what you'd call between places right now."

Tiffany stands and grabs Sunny's hand, pulling her up with her. "You're coming back to my place."

"What?" Sunny staggers out of her chair.

"Just shut up and let me take you home."

 

 

 

Sunny stands in the middle of Tiffany's apartment with her duffel bag and has never felt more out of place in her life.

Tiffany's apartment makes her look like she has her life together and all figured out. A respectable amount of books on the bookshelf, magazines sprawled on the coffee table, and not a an empty carry out carton in sight. It makes Sunny want to crawl back to her car.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you about the dangers of strangers?" Sunny asks and drops her bag near the couch. "You don't even know me."

"I would if you'd let me," Tiffany says quietly. She tosses a pillow and some blankets on the couch and looks at Sunny pointedly. "Bathroom's down the hall and I'm the second door on the right. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thanks," Sunny grabs Tiffany's arm. "Really," she holds Tiffany's gaze, "this is really nice of you. I'll only be here a few days max."

Tiffany squeezes her shoulders and smiles. "Stay as long as you need to."

Tiffany probably means it, because that's just the kind of girl she is. It almost makes Sunny want to take her up on her offer and stay forever.

 

 

 

A few days turns into a week and a week turns into a month. Sunny brings up the topic of moving out now and again but the fierceness in the way Tiffany glares at her makes her give up after the third time.

Their daily routine is a bit something like this:

Sunny wakes up first unless Tiffany is already up with breakfast waiting (which is always). Tiffany goes to work, Sunny hangs around the apartment, tidies the place, and writes music when she can. It feels odd. For the first time in a long time she has some calm and routine in her life yet it ends up making her feel even more restless than ever.

After the first few weeks, she starts moving her boxes of vinyl into the apartment.

"You do know that I don't have a record player, right?" Tiffany eyes her in amusement.

Sunny winks at her and goes out to her car.

Ten minutes later she's lugging the heavy antique her uncle gave her for graduation up the ridiculous amount of stairs to Tiffany's apartment.

"Awesome," Tiffany says from the couch.

"Yeah, don't help or anything," Sunny huffs and struggles to get the player on the desk.

Tiffany gets up from the couch and stands near Sunny. "But you're so strong though," she says and strokes Sunny's arm.

She almost drops the record player and bites the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting, "what the hell".

Tiffany is touchy; she already knew this tidbit. But living with it and being on the receiving end every single day is still something she's getting used to. The fact that her brain short circuits every time Tiffany is near her is probably something she'll never adjust to.

"Are you going to dazzle me with your impressive music collection?" Tiffany slings an arm around her shoulder.

"Babe," she looks up at Tiffany. Music talk is something she could do half dead, it's her _thing_ and nothing—not even the way Tiffany smells this close to her—rattles her when she's in her zone. "I am going to rock your world."

 

 

 

Tiffany pops open a bottle of wine and Sunny gives her a crash course on the wonders of jazz.

"Why am I not surprised that you're a jazz junkie?"

"You'd be surprised at what doesn't surprise you about me," Sunny says with a small smile to herself. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back against the couch, letting the music course through her body.

She feels Tiffany sit down next to her, their thighs pressing against each other. A heavy weight settles in her chest and the calming effect of the music is starting to make her feel anxious.

"Stop it, I can feel you looking at me," Sunny says without opening her eyes. She blindly reaches out to swat her and she feels Tiffany grab her hand.

Tiffany doesn't let go.

"This is nice," she hears Tiffany say after what feels like an eternity.

Tiffany lays her head on her shoulder and for the first time in her life, she doesn't think music can fix whatever _this_ feeling is. Her heart pounds in her ears, playing out like a bass line and it clashes with the dulcet tones coming from the record player.

Tiffany has to hear how loud her heart is beating, there's no way that she can't. Whether she does or doesn't, Tiffany just presses tighter against Sunny and sighs softly.

"Yeah, really nice."

 

 

 

Sunny wakes up the next morning with an ache in her neck and a warm body half on her. Her first instinct is to panic.

Sometime during the night, they must have dozed off and Tiffany being Tiffany, is just as touchy asleep as she is awake. They're more or less cuddling and Sunny tries to figure out a way to extract herself without waking Tiffany.

"Stop freaking out."

It's a good thing she isn't near the edge of the couch because she's pretty sure she would have fallen off in shock. "I'm not freaking out," Sunny croaks.

"Oh yeah?" Tiffany's sleep-laced voice is even huskier than usual and it is doing nothing to quell her panic. She reaches up and places her hand on Sunny's chest. If her heart were beating any harder, it would probably knock her hand off.

Sunny tries to even her breathing but it doesn't seem to work judging by how Tiffany is still staring at her, dark eyes searching for something that she doesn't think she can give her. Sunny is trapped in every sense of the word and nothing short of tossing Tiffany off her would get her out of this.

Tiffany breaks eye contact and nuzzles her face into the crook of her neck. "Go back to sleep," she mumbles and tightens an arm around her waist.

Sunny wills her brain to shut down and go to sleep. At least asleep she doesn't have to think about Tiffany's skin burning against her where her shirt has ridden up.

 

 

 

There's a loud beeping noise going off near Sunny's ear that sounds suspiciously like an alarm. It can't be an alarm though because she hasn't set an alarm in years and she never has to wake up in time for anything. The noise keeps going off for a few more seconds until it's not.

"Hello, this is Sunny's phone."

Sunny shoots up from the couch so fast the blood rushes to her head.

"Hi, I'm Tiffany."

Sunny stares wide eyed at Tiffany; not because she's standing there with Sunny's phone to her ear, but because she's standing there in a robe with wet hair _and_ she has Sunny's phone to her ear. Sunny holds her hand out, silently demanding her phone.

Tiffany raises a challenging eyebrow to her.

Sunny mouths a silent please instead of getting up and forcibly taking the phone back.

"Looks like Sunny wants her phone. It was nice meeting you, Sooyoung." Tiffany cheekily hands Sunny the phone and saunters off to the kitchen.

"Sooyoung."

"Sunny! What the hell? You don't write, you don't call, it's like a bad magic trick all up in here."

Sunny rolls her eyes even though she knows Sooyoung can't see her.

"Sunny," Sooyoung's voice gets serious. "I told you not to cut us out—not to cut _me_ out."

"I didn't," she sighs into the phone. "I picked up your call, didn't I?"

"Actually, you didn't, your friend Tiffany did. Which by the way, what? You're making new friends and you don't even have the decency to tell me?"

"I'm not— _she's_ not—" Sunny groans in frustration and drops her head to her knees.

"I thought we were okay," Sooyoung says quietly. "I knew it was har—"

"Stop," Sunny cuts in briskly. "We _are_ okay. Stop thinking that I hate you guys for kicking me out. Hell, if anything I probably hate you guys a bit for not doing it sooner and letting me mooch for so long."

"Then why does it feel like I've lost my best friend?"

Sunny doesn't know how to answer her. It was selfish the way she left but it's the only way she knows how to do things. To her, it's progress that she didn't leave the country altogether.

"I just needed some space to clear my head," Sunny finally says. "It's just, life, you know? It keeps pulling me in all these directions and I don't know what it wants from me."

"Maybe life doesn't want anything from you. Maybe it's trying to give you something but you're refusing to let it in."

"Yeah," she says and glances towards the kitchen. "Maybe."

 

 

 

Tiffany doesn't ask her about her conversation with Sooyoung. She doesn't push or prod for details and it scares Sunny. It scares her how Tiffany doesn't seem to want anything from her but the way she looks at her sometimes says otherwise.

"You seem to write a lot of music but I don't think I've ever seen you mess around with your guitar." Tiffany eyes her guitar in the corner of the living room.

Sunny looks up from her notebook and shrugs at Tiffany. She does mess around with it a lot, actually. She just always makes sure to do it when she knows Tiffany is at work and won't be back for a while.

"Why haven't you signed up for any of the open mic days yet?"

"I don't know," she replies and scribbles out the messy lyrics. "Guess I don't want to do another lame cover like everyone else."

"Then do one of your own songs," Tiffany says and plops down next to her on the couch. She rests her head on Sunny's shoulder and peers down at the notebook.

Sunny snaps it shut and clears her throat. "I can't. It's... they're really personal," she says weakly.

Hurt flashes across Tiffany's face and it's gone within a blink of an eye. "Okay," she says with a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Their noses are almost touching and Tiffany's face is just so very close.

"Okay," Tiffany repeats and turns her head towards the television, settling into Sunny's side.

"Okay," Sunny breathes out, for lack of anything better to say.

She can fill pages with meaningful lyrics but one glance from Tiffany reduces her to someone who might as well be blind and dumb.

 

 

 

When she's not doing the occasional odd job around town for some quick cash, Sunny visits Tiffany at the coffee shop.

She lounges at a table out on the patio and waits for Tiffany to go on her break.

"Hey," Tiffany's disembodied voice calls out.

Sunny tilts her head back against the chair but doesn't open her eyes. The sunlight is warm on her face and all she sees is the red of her eyelids. "Hey back," she says and pushes the box on the table to where she thinks Tiffany is.

"Oh."

She hears the rustle of plastic and a small squeal of surprise when Tiffany manages to get the box of candy open.

"Thanks," Tiffany says and Sunny finally sits up.

She squints against the sunlight and can barely make out Tiffany's sharp outline. "How's work?" she asks and steals a piece of candy.

"Good," she says and pops another piece in her mouth. She smiles at Sunny knowingly. "You got me only pink ones."

Sunny shrugs. "You always pick out the pink pieces so I wanted to see what you'd do if they were all pink."

"I'm going to show you my shiny smile is what I'm going to do," Tiffany says with a wide grin.

Sunny rolls her eyes and tosses the plastic wrapping at Tiffany. "Please go shine your beauty somewhere that's not in my general direction."

"Why?" Tiffany's head is tilted in that way that it always does when she asks something she already kind of knows the answer to.

"Because—"

She sees the manager motion to Tiffany from the corner of her vision. Tiffany gets up to go back inside, a silent apology flashing across her face.

"—it makes me want to give you the world."

 

 

 

It takes two months of unsettling domesticity with Tiffany for Sunny to finally sign herself up for open mic.

She writes and rewrites an obscene number of texts to Sooyoung and Hyoyeon before finally settling on: Hey, I've got a gig tonight, please come if you can.

She sends another text to them with an address and turns her phone off.

Tiffany is at work so she probably already knows. But then again, it's not like she ever checks those sign up sheets so maybe she doesn't, especially since she signed up for a night slot that's not during Tiffany's shift.

She paces Tiffany's apartment and curses herself for feeling like it's the first time she's ever performed. Far from it, she's done it countless times before but she still feels like she's going to spew even though she hasn't eaten anything all day.

Sunny scrawls a message for Tiffany and tapes it to the front of her notebook—her precious notebook she doesn't let anyone look through that's falling apart from years of wear.

She places it in front of Tiffany's bedroom door and leaves the apartment. If nothing else, at least a walk will help her kill time until she has to make a fool of herself in public.

 

 

 

It's nearly dusk by the time she makes her way back to the apartment. She's still a bundle of nerves and it takes her no less than three tries to get the door unlocked.

Tiffany is sitting on the couch with her notebook when she walks in. The lights aren't on and the sunset creeping through the windows casts Tiffany in an eerie glow. When their eyes meet, Tiffany's face breaks into a slow smile—the kind of smile that hides nothing and promises everything.

"Hey," Tiffany says lowly.

"Hey back." Sunny's nervous in a completely different way now and she can't tell if it's better or worse. She makes her way to the middle of the living room, just out of reach of the couch.

"So," Tiffany says and gets up. She settles against the arm of the couch, Sunny's notebook dangling from her hand. "This still doesn't explain why you refused to sign up all this time." She drops the notebook on the couch and looks at Sunny like they've got all the time in the world.

"Because," Sunny starts and has to look away, not sure what to make of the intensity behind Tiffany's gaze. "It's..."

"Personal," Tiffany finishes for her.

"It is." And it isn't. Sunny fidgets with her hands, she _needs_ Tiffany to understand this, where she's coming from. "It's just, it's something that's _mine_ , you know?"

Tiffany nods and reaches out, pulling Sunny towards her until they're in each other's space.

"And it's not something that I want to do for a bunch of random strangers. I want it to mean something and..."

Tiffany tilts Sunny's chin up, forcing her to look into the eyes that have been haunting her for the better part of the last couple months. "And?" she whispers so quietly that Sunny has to strain herself to hear it.

"And now it means something. Because of you." Sunny holds her breath and something in Tiffany's stare changes.

"Okay," Tiffany says and smiles.

It's the smile that promises too much and makes Sunny feel like she has nothing to offer in return. In an instant, Tiffany's lips are on hers and it feels like their first meeting all over again. Sunny forgets how to breathe and freezes in place. Seconds, minutes, eternities pass and Tiffany pulls back.

For the first since they've met, Tiffany is the one looking unsure of herself.

"Okay?" Tiffany asks quietly.

Sunny nods and surges forward, erasing all doubt from the girl who has nothing to doubt as best as she can.

Tiffany's hip push towards Sunny and she rests her hands at the hem of Tiffany's shirt. She pulls back just enough to look at Tiffany for permission.

Tiffany makes quick work of her shirt before pulling Sunny's over her head. She pulls Sunny back into a deep kiss as they fall back on the couch and Sunny settles between Tiffany's legs.

Sunny kisses her way down Tiffany's neck and feels Tiffany's ragged breathing rather than hears it. Her hands wander up smooth skin and palms her chest until Tiffany is arching against her. Tiffany pushes a knee against her center and Sunny swallows a groan. Her hand makes its way down and across Tiffany's stomach. She hisses when Tiffany's nails dig into her back as her hand slips past the elastic.

Tiffany's breathing gets steadily more shallow and Sunny stifles her moans with a kiss.

Sunny nips at Tiffany's shoulder and thinks for a moment that she might have finally figured out her life. It's not about give or take, _this_ is what it is.

It's the way Tiffany looks at her and the feeling that she could take on the world if she asked her to. It's all this and so much more and for once, she's okay with not knowing what might or might not come next.

Because for now, she has this and that's all that matters.

 

 

 

Bright lights, butterflies in her stomach, and the confidence of knowing that somewhere out in the audience are Tiffany and her friends.

It's all the push Sunny needs to grab her guitar and make her way to the stage.

**Author's Note:**

> This was long overdue for an anon who is the wind beneath my slow writing wings. Did you ever know that you're my hero?


End file.
